


Mid-Lane Tango

by NicktheMoon



Series: Old DotA Snippets [5]
Category: Dota 2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 15:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicktheMoon/pseuds/NicktheMoon
Summary: Even when she's not screaming, Akasha knows how to distract Yurnero





	Mid-Lane Tango

Juggernaut was a man of honour and discipline. Nothing extraordinary on these grounds. Every other man from the vibrant side of the woods blathered on about their codes and righteousness and goodness. It was enough to make anyone scoff at their insistent morals. But oh, they were fun to tease to the edge of agony and ecstasy before crushing them under her heel, thought the Queen of Pain. Juggernaut was no different in that aspect. The monarch loped gracefully towards the lane he had last been in, according to her temporary allies. Apparently the swordsman was alone, which made it the perfect time to pay him a visit.

Yes, there he was; calmly watching the creeps as they clashed swords, waiting for them to weaken before executing the finishing blow so he could collect the bounty for each. Distracted. And so strict in how he wielded that blade…perhaps she could have some fun with his one.

In a blink she appeared among her creeps, throwing a dagger to cut their number; just before Juggernaut could claim it’s bounty. She tutted, smiling at him enchantingly.  
“Looks like you missed one.” Oh, if she could break that mask, to see his reaction. Was it anger, disappointment, frustration? He didn’t answer her or react. He simply drew back his blade.

They began the mid-lane tango; striking creeps for gold and to deny the other. In between each hit, Akasha watched her rival. Unlike the other goody-goodies on the field, he wasn’t bound in heavy armour and displayed an attractive physique. His broad chest could be improved with some scars, perhaps a piercing or two. All things she would happily supply.

“Don’t you get lonely, Juggernaut?” She teased, advancing with the next wave of reinforcements. He didn’t back down, watching her. She liked to think it was the way a rabbit watches a fox. He however, would say he watched her the way a swordsman should eye a rival; alert, wary and poised the block, then strike.

He ignored her jab. It was no secret that the was the last of Isle of Masks. Raising his sword, he cut down one of his own before she could draw another dagger.  
“You’ll have to do better.” he reprimanded her. She needed improvement, both in insults and swiftness. Yet he didn’t expect her next move.

Suddenly she was right in his personal space, smiling like she knew a secret.  
“Do better? Before I’m worth your company?”  
“I- No!” Juggernaut quickly tried to retreat, flustered by the sudden swing of the conversation.  
“Because you’ll find that it’s your honour to be with me.” She wouldn’t let him back away so easily, hopping forward to cover the distance.

Juggernaut faltered before regaining his battle stance. “This is not the time to discuss such things! We can talk about such things later!” Akasha’s smile turned from coy to amused. Often at this point men would be defending their honour or succumbing to her charms. Not offering to chat at another time.  
“Oh?”  
“A battle is hardly the place for this. Especially with a foe!” Well, of course he still had to defend his honour a little.

Yet he hadn’t raised his sword to her yet. She leaned forward easily, a too-sweet smile on her tulip lips. “But you will think about it, won’t you?” she purred, her tone succulent.

Her lips were an inch from his mask. She couldn’t kiss his mask. That was just unheard of! It was not the right way to treat his mask, his hard-earned warrior’s visage. The mask was his face and she couldn’t kiss him. But she was so close, he knew his eyes were wide behind his precious, sacred armour and she could probably tell, could sense how tense he was under the stoic stance and expressionless mask-

“Uh.” Yes, that was the correct thing to say, he thought to himself, very intelligent and coherent. Well done, Yurnero. Her breath was on his mask, on his face-

And then it was gone. A snap of her wings and the Queen had slipped from his arms with ease, laughing.  
‘Maybe next time then.’ With a wink she vanished, leaving the swordsman standing alone.


End file.
